Atonement
by Alina
Summary: Pre PRiS: Andros faces an impossible choice: resign as a Ranger or accept a new leader.
1. Seven Days to the Wolves

**Atonement**

**Summary**: (Pre PRiS) When Andros lands the heavily damaged Megaship on Eltar, Zordon gives Andros an impossible choice: resign as a Ranger or accept a new leader. Can Andros prove himself worthy of keeping his morpher and the Megaship, or will he be forced to give up everything he holds dear?

**Rating**: PG-13 for minor swearing and gore.

**Disclaimer**: Power Rangers in Space was created by Saban. The series now belongs to Disney. No infringement is intended; in fact, infringement is unlikely.

**Notes**: First and foremost, I want to thank Phantom Rogue for graciously taking the time to beta this fic. I know I've thanked you several times already, but I'll just say it again. :3

Secondly, I'm extremely thankful to have found wonderful online resources to help me fact-check and fill the blanks in my aging memory of PRiS (Let's face it, _it's been ten years since this show aired_). In particular, I wish to acknowledge the Writer's Guide to the Power Rangers Universe by Joe Rovang /wg/wgindex.htm.

* * *

_**Seven Days to the Wolves**_

When the going gets tough, most people count their blessings. Andros preferred to enumerate his failures. His planet's destruction, Zhane's critical injury, his sister's disappearance – these were the worst of what he saw as an inexhaustible list of his shortcomings. He sometimes had trouble believing that Karone had now been missing for eight years, or that the first anniversary of the fall of KO-35 had already come and gone. The pain from those wounds was still as raw and vivid as if they'd happened yesterday. He had yet to make up for them.

But there was no time for reminiscing. Right now, Andros had another mistake to add to his list of screw ups.

He'd just flown into an ambush.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid!" Andros punched a sequence of commands into the scanner he'd been using, leaving a small dent in the panel. A second volley of enemy fire hit the Megaship, and it pitched to one side, causing him to lose his balance and fall. Grabbing the legs of the panel to lift himself off the floor, Andros brought himself to his feet and dashed for the ship's thruster controls at the centre of the bridge.

Eager to just get the ship under his control again, he blindly plotted an evasive maneuver before hastily inputing several more commands into the heavily modified side of the console. All of the controls to the ship's vital systems instantly transferred to the panel, though not perfectly. Some angrily rebelled, spitting back lines of incomprehensible gibberish through their hastily-constructed displays. He ignored the uncooperative ones, deciding that gravity control wasn't _that_ important at the moment, and brought up a visual of his assailants on the main viewer.

They were three ships of a design Andros had never seen before. Their main section was a rather clunky-looking cockpit surrounded by a variety of add-ons, forming a vaguely conical fuselage that featured almost every other geometric shape at the same time. Several oversized weapons arrays were mounted on both of the awkwardly bent wings. They were flying in a simple formation, pursuing the ship while trying to get it back into their sights.

Andros laughed sardonically. "Someone was aiming for overkill," he said to no one in particular as he brought the ship about, devising a plan.

He blew back loose strands of his two-toned hair and gripped both of the thruster handles, pushing them forward to maximum power. He watched the sight of the trio of ships start to fade away with satisfaction. "There's no way they can move around quickly with those things stuck to their wings."

Another sharp blast suggested otherwise. They were back.

Andros gaped in disbelief. "That's impossible...how did they do that?" While moving the ship with one hand, he used the other to reroute the scanners to his custom panel and assess the vessels. The results answered his question and brought up another.

_No wonder they're so fast! Their engines are oversized too! How can they use engines that powerful without breaking apart?_

A fourth volley hit the ship, this time causing serious damage. Andros could hear the shield generators failing before he got the computer's warning. The Megaship was reeling from the hits like a car in a high speed collision. He struggled to keep his balance as he steadfastly gripped the thruster handles.

He glanced at the weapons status on his panel and reluctantly reached for it, arming the Megalasers. Andros didn't want to use the lasers; they'd grown more and more unruly over the past two months despite his repairs, oftentimes damaging both him and his opponent. But the situation was getting out of hand.

"I guess I have no choice." He tried his best to suppress the dread building in his stomach.

Using a classic offensive flight plan, he sent the Megaship charging towards the closest ship. It lunged forward, engines hissing at an odd pitch, but Andros kept pushing it on. He lined up the ship as best as possible and fired. The Megaship lurched due to an internal explosion, but the lasers fired, landing a direct hit on the other ship's engine. Andros managed to get the Megaship a reasonable distance away before it broke apart.

He took a moment to assess the Megaship's status, and didn't like what he saw. His custom panel was fried, meaning he'd have to run from the thrusters to the weapons station to fire again – and that was the least of his problems. The shields were long gone, the ship was venting atmosphere, and –

"Oh no. Please no!"

The main power grid was failing. Half of the ship was losing power.

Including Megadeck Six – the engine level.

_Zhane!_

He had to end this. Now.

He opened his morpher.

"Let's rocket!"

Andros let the comforting power of the morph wash over him before returning his attention to the situation. _I can do this._

Safe in his Ranger suit, he cut power to life support, redirecting its power requirements to Megadeck Six. There was plenty of power left in the Megalasers, but he was pretty sure that he would only be able to get a few shots off before they broke down completely.

The two remaining ships were on an intercept course, assuming a side-by-side attack position, barreling towards him at an insane velocity as they dipped into a bell curve. Given their trajectory, they didn't expect the Megaship to survive the next round. Andros watched them fly, his mind racing for an idea, when he noticed that one ship was drifting; its outside wing was slightly out of alignment. Any further disruption would send it spinning out of control.

As the two ships reached the bottom of their arc, they powered weapons for the killing blow.

It was his best and only chance. He jumped to the weapons panel and fired at the unaligned outer wing, and then dove back to the thruster controls. He sent the Megaship diving so fast that the inertial dampeners couldn't compensate. Everything shook and flew forward, and the ship's hull groaned and cracked at the stress. Only once he was in the dive did he check to see what he'd managed to do to his opponents.

Behind him, the lasers hit their target, glancing off the wing. The attacking ship spinned out of control and slammed into its partner's cockpit, destroying them both.

Still, Andros didn't slow the Megaship down until hull breach warnings began to flash, and then only did so reluctantly. He leaned over the thruster controls, steadying himself with his hands, and took a few deep breaths. He'd survived. Everything was going to be fine. He just needed a minute.

Wait, what was he thinking? The Megaship was a wreck and he had no weapons!

"Come on, Andros, check the ship," he told himself.

* * *

Hours later, Andros, still morphed, sat slack-legged in a chair on the bridge, staring at the communications array, hesitating.

He couldn't fix the ship.

Even if he continued his practice of ignoring damage to minor parts of the ship, and even if he salvaged more parts from everything he didn't use (and there was a lot stuff he didn't use – all of the parts in the empty crew quarters, half of the refuse systems, the Simudeck), he would never be able to plug the leak that was slowly draining the ship's power supply. Within a month, the ship would stop working and drift in space. Andros' only option was to make for the closest friendly dry dock in the sector, and of course the closest and best place to go was the one place he wanted to avoid.

Eltar.

Andros was sure that the Eltarians would be more than happy to repair the Megaship; that wasn't the problem. The problem was that they probably wouldn't give it back.

After all, he'd hijacked it.

Despite the wrongness of it, he stood by his actions. The crew was long dead, killed on KO-35 during the attack. He'd taken the ship out of desperation. At the time, it had been the only place left on the entire planet that could sustain a cryogenic stasis unit. Everyone was dead or gone and there was no reason to stay. Zhane's survival had depended on the Megaship.

For the first few months, his de facto control of the ship was tolerated. But as Dark Spectre's raids mounted, the need for more ships outweighed the Eltarian's patience. One day, a transmission had arrived, demanding that he bring the ship to its home port. Andros had ignored it, and every other message from Eltar ever since.

Andros had no defense against ignoring summons from Eltar. He knew it was wrong to keep their ship. With a decent crew and upkeep, the Megaship would be practically unstoppable in a fight and could single-handedly do a lot of good. But he couldn't give the ship back. It was his means of protecting what he cared about. Without it, he'd be unable to roam the universe freely, attacking Dark Spectre's outposts or searching for Karone while keeping a quiet eye on his best friend, asleep in stasis. If he returned it, he would have to entrust Zhane to someone else for protection, and that meant trusting someone with the secret that the legendary Silver Ranger was still alive. That was unacceptable. At this point, Andros trusted no one but himself.

Besides, Power Rangers weren't thieves. Rangers didn't ignore requests from Eltar in favour of their own selfish pursuits.

Power Rangers didn't let their planets get sacked by the forces of evil.

Andros knew his conduct was not that of a Power Ranger, and the Eltarians, Keepers of the Power itself, would make him answer for it, as was their right.

If Andros went to Eltar, he wouldn't have to surrender just the Megaship. He'd also have to surrender his morpher.

Tears welled up in his eyes, much to his frustration. Andros like to didn't cry; he fixed the problem and got on with it. He was a Kerovian, and Kerovians were as tough as they came. Still, Andros felt like he was drowning in his mistakes and being stripped of the ability to fix them at the same time. He couldn't lose the ship, or his morpher. He couldn't lose his link to the Power. He needed them to make things right.

But if he didn't go to Eltar, Zhane would die. The power leak was as much of a death sentence for the ship as it was for his friend.

Andros sighed and shook his head, standing up. This wasn't a hard decision. He couldn't save Zhane, but by keeping him alive, he was giving Zhane the chance to save himself. He owed him that much, even if it cost him everything else.

Burying thoughts of what to expect when he arrived, Andros plotted a course to Eltar, set the engines to a speed he thought they could handle without burning out too quickly, and then sat down at the communications station again to send them a message. He was suddenly glad that he was still morphed; no one would be able to see his tear-streaked face in the transmission. Before pressing record, he took a calming breath. He fingered his locket through his uniform, reminded himself of all his mistakes, and his promises to fix them.

"I'm not giving up on you," he whispered.

The words were not just meant for Zhane.

* * *

It was nine days before the Megaship ended its painful limp to Eltar and landed on the grey, rocky planet. Andros eased her as gently as possible into the spaceport, cringing each time the ship creaked in new ways or abruptly tilted in the wrong direction. But the ship was tough and well-built, and he managed to land it where he'd been directed without incident, breathing a sigh of relief as the engines methodically shut down without complaint. Without their constant hum, the Megaship felt eerily silent to Andros, even dead.

This was it.

He took in the sight of the dilapidated bridge, the damaged consoles, the exposed wiring within the walls, and shook his head, performing a few final tasks before disembarking. He shut down all power but the energy feeding the computer, security system and stasis unit, and opened the ventilation system to let in air from outside. The effect was instant; Andros could taste the fresh, unrecycled air through his helmet as he powered down.

Andros only had his thoughts to fill the ship's silence as he walked to the airlock in the engine room. He was nervous. What would be waiting for him when he went outside? At best, there would be no one. At worst, he expected a stern Eltarian and an outstretched hand waiting to claim his morpher. But the sad truth was, he had no idea what to expect. The communiqués the planet had sent since his mayday were clipped and direct, giving no hint to the mood of the Keepers of the Power. That was what bothered Andros the most: the uncertainty of it all. This wasn't a battle he could win if he didn't know what he was up against. Heck, it wasn't a battle at all. It was something almost outside of his mindset. While he was a skilled fighter and strategist, Andros was still a teenager, and unskilled when it came to dealing with people outside of a battlefield. He had no experience that could help him out of this.

He stopped at the airlock, glancing back towards Zhane's alcove. He needed to assure himself that it was indeed well-concealed. A scavenged piece of wall was in place, obscuring the door and room beyond. It looked like the wall was out of place, but he was confident that any visitors to the ship would dismiss it as an emergency repair to the wall and nothing more. It would suffice until...

He didn't know how to finish that thought.

Andros sighed. There was no point delaying any further. He pulled his long hair back into a ponytail to improve his disheveled appearance, opened the airlock, and stepped out.

Five men were waiting for him at the base of the ship. All were Eltarian, at least as far as Andros could tell. They all had that same basic appearance: shaved heads, straight noses, broad shoulders, and short but powerfully built bodies clad in tunics of similar designs and neutral colours. Some carried ledgers and scanners. None looked particularly friendly.

The man at the centre of the group – a herald, Andros realized, spotting a symbolic bracelet on the man's left arm – stepped forward and saluted the teen mechanically. "Welcome, Andros of KO-35. I am honoured to welcome a Power Ranger to Eltar, and thank you for the return of our vessel." He took a step to the side, gesturing behind him. "If you would please follow me? I've been asked to escort you."

Andros didn't miss the rehearsed tone of the welcome, or the fact that the polite request to follow the herald was a thinly veiled order.

His immediate thought was to rebel, to turn around and lock himself in the ship, or to morph and stand his ground, refusing to take anyone's orders. He suppressed the urge as quickly as it surfaced. If he did that, he would just be digging himself a bigger hole to get out of. But still, he ached to know what was going to happen next. What could he glean from the emissary?

"What's going to happen to the Megaship?"

The herald raised his eyebrows. Obviously, he hadn't expected such a question. "That depends," he replied.

"On what?"

"On how damaged it is, which is what my companions are here to determine." He paused, his eyes moving from the morpher on Andros' wrist to the Red Ranger's eyes. "And other things."

Without waiting to see if Andros would prolong the conversation, the emissary set off at a brisk pace, apparently convinced that Andros would follow. The rest of the group broke up and began circling the ship, examining burn marks and taking notes. One approached the airlock, staring at Andros with no small amount of trepidation.

"I need to go inside," he said.

Anger and anxiety rose up like a lump in Andros' throat at the notion of letting someone into his inner sanctum. He glared menacingly at the mechanic.

"Don't touch anything," he replied before marching off in pursuit of the herald.

* * *

Eltar, Andros decided, was well suited to its people. It was a very austere, very grey planet. The terrain was grey, with flecks of black and white spattered here and there on the rocky granite cliffs. The plant life was few and far between, and what there was were short, stout shrubs and grasses that varied in colour from the occasional forest green to a soft lavender grey. Every building he and the escort passed as they walked through the port was much the same: tall, straight, angular, and colourless like weathered marble. The only colour Andros saw was in the wildlife: strange insects, lit up with all the colours of the rainbow, fluttered around the occasional tree, emitting a strange, wistful cry as they moved.

"_Elenath_," the herald commented, seeing Andros' interest. "They feed on the leaves of the trees before migrating to the north over the ocean."

"They can make it that far?" Andros recalled seeing the wide expanse of the northern ocean when he was landing the Megaship. It had to be hundreds of kilometers wide.

"A few do, but not many. _Elenath_ are reckless creatures. They have no concept of patience or of pacing themselves as they cross the water. I'm sure you understand."

Andros stiffened. "Is that supposed to be your idea of subtle criticism?"

The herald held his hands up in surrender. "What can I say? Your reputation precedes you. Everyone has at the very least heard the rumors of the rogue Red Ranger that patrols the vast expanses of space, fighting any evil and answering to no one."

"And you don't approve."

"The Council doesn't."

Andros sighed, turning his head from the _elenath_ to stare in at the path in front of him that led deeper into the port city. "Look, I doubt the Council of Eltar needs you to repeat what they're going to tell me when we arrive. Hearing it once will be enough. So could you, I don't know, shut up?"

He expected the herald to be offended and silenced by his rude reply. That was his intention, after all. Instead, the man looked at Andros with a mixture of both offense and bewilderment.

"But I'm not taking you to the Council, Andros of KO-35. I thought you knew that?"

"You're not?" Andros stared at the herald as they continued walking, confused.

"They agreed that they were not the best authority to...speak with you."

Now he was _really_ confused. Where else would you send a Power Ranger that needed to be disciplined but to the rulers of the planet that discovered the Power and knew it best? Whose authority could possibly surpass theirs?

Curiosity got the better of him. "Then where are we going?"

"I'm taking you to see Zordon."

The Red Ranger stopped in his tracks, his mouth open from the reply he'd planned out in his mind. The herald didn't notice until he turned to beckon Andros into one of the buildings. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"Zordon's on Earth."

"He was until last month. A wormhole allowed him and his assistant to return to Eltar. I'm surprised you hadn't heard."

Andros could only shrug, still in shock over the revelation. "I- I've been busy."

"I see." The herald entered the building, holding the door open for Andros. "When Zordon heard that you were coming, he intervened with the Council on your behalf. They agreed to let him judge you first with one condition."

Andros didn't hear a word that the herald said as he followed him in. He was still stuck on the previous revelation.

Zordon was going to judge him. Zordon – the immortal, death-defying warrior who'd defeated Rita Repulsa and survived being trapped in a time warp by calling on the Power in ways that were supposed to be impossible. The stories of his exploits, his courage, and his wisdom existed even today throughout the galaxy, tens of thousands of years after he'd committed his great feats.

Andros suddenly felt very lost and insignificant. Who was he compared to Zordon? An unruly Power Ranger? A nobody from the backwoods of the universe?

He was going to see _Zordon._ The first and most legendary Power Ranger.


	2. The White Wizard

_**The White Wizard**_

"Please stand here," the herald indicated a large circle embedded in the floor next to a console. Andros, realizing that he was in a teleportation station, did so without complaint. When he was in position, the herald set about preparing to transport him while Andros pondered what he'd just learned.

_Why does Zordon want to see me?_ he wondered. It didn't make sense. Zordon had never chosen him to be a Ranger, or even met him. He fingered his morpher absently, his fears about what exactly Zordon would think of him resurfacing. He almost wished that he were meeting the Eltarian Council.

_I bet they still have a say. They let Zordon do this conditionally_.

The herald gave Andros a final salute. "Alpha will send you back. Teleporting now."

"Wait, what was the condition?" Andros asked, his thoughts finally catching up to what the herald had said.

But it was too late. He was already caught up in the surge of red energy.

A moment later, Andros was standing in a clearing beside what had to be the oldest-looking building Andros had ever seen. Its style was similar to those of the buildings in the spaceport – grey, tall and angular – but it was noticeably different at the same time. Intricate geometric etchings adorned the walls, smoothed by age and a wind. A flowering vine of some sort draped one crumbling section of the round building, adorning it with small, yellow blooms.

The only door on the building slid open, and an android walked out, stumbling in surprise when he saw Andros. "Ai ya yai! You're here!" He skipped over to Andros and gave a slight bow.

"Welcome, Andros! I am Alpha 5," he said, grasping Andros' hand and shaking it thoroughly while the Kerovian stood expressionless and confused.

"...Hello," he managed to get out before retrieving his hand.

Alpha continued on at the same rate that his yellow lightning symbol kept flashing. "Oh! I'm sorry, I've been on Earth so long that I forgot! You wouldn't know what a handshake is. It's a greeting! How do you like Eltar? I've missed it so much myself, though it could use some more flowers. I planted the yellow ones over there last week..." He spun around and put his hands to his head. "But I shouldn't be wasting your time with that! Come inside!"

The inside of Zordon's abode was much darker than the exterior, lit only by sparse lights and panels. Andros followed Alpha attentively, not wanting to embarrass himself by tripping on an object in the dark or get lost, constantly fighting the growing sense of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. He could've sworn that some alien creature was trying to break free from his belly by the time Alpha brought him into a larger, better lit room, waved farewell, and puttered off.

As Andros watched Alpha leave, he felt the morpher on his arm _glow_. There wasn't any other way Andros could describe it to himself; the energy in the morpher was resonating, humming with a red glow that warmed his heart and made him feel brave again. He didn't need to guess why. No sooner did the question develop in his mind did Andros already know what was causing it.

He slowly turned around, coming face to face with Zordon, trapped in his glass prison.

He was smiling sadly, as though Andros were his long-lost son. "Greetings, Andros. I've been looking forward to meeting you. I wish it could've been under better circumstances."

Andros was speechless, overwhelmed by everything. His morpher was brimming with humming, dancing Power. Eons of experience and was practically etched into Zordon's face. His eyes exuded power like it was nothing.

He bowed his head, unable to look the sage in the eye any longer. "Zordon. It's an honour to meet you."

"As it is for me to meet you, though you I can see that you do not believe it."

Andros nodded. "I hear the Council isn't very happy with me."

"Then do you already understand why you are here, and why the Eltarian Council, Keepers of the Power, would see you disciplined?"

"Yes. I know what my mistakes are." He knew all too well. Andros stared at the floor and started to recite them emotionlessly.

"I let my sister be kidnapped. I let KO-35 fall. I let my partner take a mortal blow for me. I stole the Megaship. I-"

"Stop." Zordon's voice was so forceful that Andros did stop in mid-sentence.

"You are not being honest with yourself or with me," he said. "You and I both know that you are only truly responsible for one of those things."

"Why?" Andros didn't bother to conceal his acerbic, self-depreciating tone.

"Because you were only a child when Karone was kidnapped. Because your planet was overwhelmed, not overthrown. Because its protection was not your responsibility alone. Because Zhane _is_ alive, as you well know."

He lifted his head. "How do you-"

"When Rita cast me into the time warp, I called on the Power in its entirety to save me, ignoring its facets and colours and without a morpher to channel it. That act is the only thing that saved me. It sustains me."

"It's keeping you alive?"

"Yes, and it left me permanently in tune with the it. I can feel its bond with those who would wield it. I know Zhane is alive because his link to the Power is not severed, though it is faint. Which means that the only transgression you must answer for is the Megaship."

Andros started to answer without any further prompting from Zordon.

"I took it to save Zhane. Everyone was dead. It was the only way."

"And when he was stable and could've been moved? Why didn't you bring it back?"

The answer was so simple.

"I...didn't want to."

Zordon gave the Ranger a sympathetic look. "Andros, you must understand their position. The fall of your home world was just the beginning of the violence that now threatens to plague the entire universe. Evil in countless numbers is rallying together under Dark Spectre's leadership. War is inevitable. All that can be done now is delay it for as long as possible. We need as much time as possible to prepare, and Eltar needs to do more preparation than most – it has no defenses. It doesn't even have an army. Every ship that is capable of fighting must be mustered. By keeping the Megaship for yourself, you deprived Eltar of something it could use to protect itself."

"You're saying that the Megaship would've been put to better use defending the planet than attacking Dark Spectre's ships?"

"While your exploits have been admirable, they threatened to bring Dark Spectre into open retaliation. Whatever time the forces of good was trying to buy would've been lost. The Eltarian Council feared your reckless actions would trigger this. They tried to contact you many times to tell you this, but you would not answer their hails."

Andros shook his head, leaning against a wall. He understood Zordon's point, but at the same time, he wanted to refute it. "I can't believe that Dark Spectre would start open warfare because one person working alone attacked his armies."

"Dark Spectre is _looking_ for an excuse to start a war. He had a good one when a Power Ranger was attacking his armies. He wouldn't care if the Ranger was a rogue."

Andros said nothing, trying to process Zordon's analysis. "I'd never thought about it that way," he eventually admitted.

"You're young, Andros. It's normal. But you must still pay the price for your misjudgments. You will no longer lead the Ranger team to which your morpher belongs."

Andros bowed his head, unable to look at Zordon anymore. It really was over. He unstrapped his morpher. He didn't want to prolong the pain any more than he had to.

"Unless you are resigning as a Ranger, put your morpher back on," Zordon said as Andros did this. Andros froze in mid-motion. The hope blossoming in his chest was too good to be true.

"I don't have to give it up?"

"That is what the Council wants, but without the Sword of Light, which is on Earth, it is impossible to transfer your powers to another person. And," Zordon added, "I don't believe you should give up your powers."

"Why?"

"The Power has not abandoned you. There is no fault in the reasons behind your choices. You displayed true devotion to Zhane and your sister by taking the Megaship. Your intentions were not evil. You simply did what most people your age do: you failed to consider the broader impact of your actions."

Alpha's clunky footsteps broke Andros out of his reflection as the android hustled into the room.

"I'm sorry for intruding, Zordon, but you told me to inform you as soon as she arrived. She's waiting at the spacedock."

"So I did. Thank you." Zordon caught Andros' eye.

"Andros, you must decide for yourself what you will do. If you want to continue using the Megaship and being a Power Ranger, then you must allow others to assume the the Astromorphers and follow the new candidate that the Council has selected. If you cannot do this, then I will ask you to surrender your morpher. You do not have to decide right now, but soon. Time is running out. Do you understand?"

Andros swallowed, nodding. "Yes."

"Alpha will go with you and oversee the repairs to the Megaship. He will ensure that Zhane and your privacy are protected."

Andros nodded automatically while watching Alpha enter commands into a nearby panel faster than was humanly possible.

"Andros."

Zordon's softer tone caught the Ranger's attention, and he looked up. The Eltarian was looking at him with that wistful look again, the one that made Andros feel that this person understood him better than anyone else in the universe.

"I know this isn't going to be easy for you. You like working alone. You don't trust others, nor can I make you. But I will ask you to trust yourself. You can do this."

"What makes you so sure?"

Zordon grinned ruefully, and replied only as Alpha was teleporting them out.

"Because I was Red, too."

* * *

The teleport landed Andros and Alpha right in front of the Megaship. The mechanics were still surveying the damage, but there was someone else with them – a girl, not much older than Andros. She turned around at the sound of the teleport, eyes widening when she saw who they were, and started towards them.

Alpha watched Andros and the woman begin a staring contest, and quickly retreated towards the mechanics. "Ai ya...I'm going to go see how ship's doing. See you later!" His departure was barely noted.

They circled, sizing each other up. Andros could tell instantly that she was a soldier; her sure, measured steps and stance left no doubt in his mind about that. But as he stared at her, scrutinizing a cold expression as it crossed the soft features of her face, he suddenly felt as though he were looking at himself in a mirror.

But it wasn't Karone. She didn't _look_ like him; she was _acting_ like him, in a way that seemed perfectly normal to Andros. Even the way she'd tied up her long golden hair into a tight braid was familiar. And then he stopped circling, surprised.

"You're Kerovian!"

She stopped too, and put her hands on her hips, partially covering the wide yellow sash draped over waist. She stared him down.

"Yes. You weren't the only one to escape." Her eyes were green like new grass.

"How many?"

"Twelve in my platoon got off the planet. They're all over the place now." She lowered her head. "I don't know about anyone else."

Andros couldn't think of anything to say to that. "Oh."

The woman shrugged and took a few tentative steps towards him.

"I'm Tari," she said, saluting. "I can't tell you how long I've been looking forward to this day. I've dreamed of leading a Ranger team since KO-35 made its morphers."

Good manners dictated that Andros was supposed to salute her in return, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew she had every right to be pleased with herself. Becoming a Power Ranger was a great honour. But he resented her already, not missing the fact that while her yellow sash was the most brightly coloured thing she wore, her silver-threaded shirt stood out the most.

She narrowed her eyes. "You don't like me."

Andros crossed his arms, returning her cold stare with one of his own. Two could play at this game. "I just met you."

"Have you decided if you're staying on, or is someone else going to get your powers?" She walked closer, stopping only when she was face to face with him. He was only a little taller than her.

He glared back, rising to her challenge. "No one can take my powers. There's no way to transfer them. And I'm not giving them up."

Tari smiled. "Good to hear. I was hoping you'd stay," she said, breaking eye contact as she walked back towards the Megaship's airlock. "How about you give me the grand tour? Since we're probably going to be on it a lot, I want to know everything about the Megaship."

Andros uncrossed his arms, fighting back the voices of dissent that were rising up in his head. This sucked, and this was the only way.


	3. Wunderkind

_**Wunderkind**_

Andros turned on the lights in the final room on the tour. They flickered to life with an unpracticed, fluorescent hum, echoing Andros' own hesitation. Tari walked past him and took in the grey, featureless room and the heavy door at the other end.

"This is the vault," Andros ignored the sudden appearance of anticipation on her face and went to the safe's door, punching his password in.

Tari followed close on his heels. "This is where you keep the morphers?"

"Yeah." The lock beeped a confirmation and snapped open. He seized the handle and slowly started to pull the door open.

Tari moved to his side and helped him open the door the rest of the way. "This wasn't what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

"More security."

He was tempted to point out that most of the ship didn't meet her expectations, but the last thing he wanted was to get into another analysis of 'How Andros Could Have Kept the Megaship in Better Order'. "It's secure enough."

"For your tastes, maybe." Tari walked into the unlit interior of the vault proper, instantly fixated with the sight of the four Astromorphers. Andros watched from the door, leaning one shoulder on it with his arms crossed while her hand lazily grazed the table they were mounted on, stroking it like a long-lost treasure.

"The way I see it," she said, looking up, "these are the most important weapons in the universe. Each one gives Dark Spectre another formidable enemy, and gives us another ally to fight with. They need to be protected until Eltar finds the right people to use them."

"People like you?"

Tari met his challenging stare. "Yes. Like me."

"And what makes you the right person?"

Tari absently scratched the back of her ear as she answered.

"I've always wanted to be a Power Ranger. I was training with the Kerovain military when our home was destroyed, specializing in hand to hand combat specifically because martial artists were being considered as potential Rangers. I survived Dark Spectre's attack thanks to my wits, and spent the last year doing reconnaissance for Eltar." She laughed softly. "In fact, that's exactly what I was doing when I got the message that you were coming here. Never thought that I could fly from Onyx to Eltar in a week, but I was wrong."

Andros wasn't convinced. "Lots of people are trained in martial arts. Many more do reconnaissance against the forces of Evil."

"But not many people watched their home be destroyed. Isn't that reason enough? Isn't that the only reason that matters?" she spat back. The look on her face was one of pure indignation, but disappeared as soon as it became apparent.

"I don't want other people to go through what I did. And the only way I can really prevent it is as a Power Ranger," she finished in monotone. Andros followed her lead and stared at an unremarkable section of the wall, unwilling to look at the fury-filled, golden-haired woman or the four morphers on the table any longer. He didn't want to watch her pick up one of the morphers and irrevocably bind them to a team he wanted no part of.

"Take your morpher." He hoped that she would do it quickly. It would be less painful that way.

"But the Silver one isn't here."

"Why do you want the Digimorpher?" Andros asked darkly, suspicion and anger lacing his thoughts. _Zhane_ was the Silver Ranger. Not her. Whatever her strengths were, she didn't deserve his powers.

She rolled her eyes as if his question was ridiculous. "Because. It's the strongest."

"You can't have it." The words escaped his mouth before he could think twice.

Tari cocked her head. "Why not?"

He debated over what he should tell her. Should he tell Tari that Zhane was alive, albeit barely, now that the subject of the Silver Ranger was in the air? If they were going to be a team, they would have to be honest with each other, and if she spent enough time on the Megaship, she would eventually find out.

But no. There was something about the look in her eyes that made his stomach churn and his heart turn to ice as she stood there, waiting for his answer. Something beyond desperation. Entitlement.

The lie came to his lips easily. "It was destroyed on KO-35."

Tari frowned, eying Andros' poker face critically. He was positive that wasn't the answer she wanted to hear, and was trying to decide if he was trying to deceive her. He stared back unflinchingly and without fear of being doubted; if there was one thing Andros had plenty of experience doing, it was hiding his feelings from others.

"Shame," she finally said, directing her attention back to the table. In his mind, Andros breathed a huge sigh of relief himself. She looked at the Astromorphers on the table once more, and after a moment's thought, reached for the yellow one. "I guess this one will do then."

Andros was taken aback. "You mean you don't know which one is yours to begin with?"

"Should I?" She was carefully binding the morpher to her wrist, oblivious to his shocked expression. She had no idea what he was talking about.

It wasn't the reaction Andros had expected. When he'd first approached the Astromorphers, faced with the life-altering choice of which one to pick up, he'd automatically gone for the red. He hadn't realized until after he'd put it on that he'd taken that particular colour, and once he had, it was a non-issue. It was never a question of choice; he'd had no need for critical or conscious thought. When he mentioned his feelings to Zhane, his friend had said he'd experienced something similar too, and Andros had since concluded that a ranger's choice of colour was somehow hardwired into their brains long before they ever came in contact with the Power. The prospect that Tari did not meet his preconceived notion was unsettling.

He struggled to translate his view into words without sounding too antagonistic. "It has something to do with your character. Some people say that Yellows are naturally supportive, or that Silver is a bit of a maverick colour. It's...inherent to a Ranger, like the need to follow the Three Rules of the Power."

"The Three Rules," Tari repeated. Andros knew that she was probably reciting them in her head, just as he did whenever they were mentioned.

_Always use the Power to defend, never to attack._

_Never use the Power for personal gain. _

_Never reveal your identity as a Power Ranger needlessly._

Tari stepped away from the morphers, her full attention set on Andros. "I have to disagree. I've read a lot about previous Rangers. You're the first Power Ranger I've ever met, but you're hardly the poster boy for Red Rangers. You're nothing like your predecessors."

She started approached him with confident, measured steps, like a commander inspecting her troops.

"Reds are always flamboyant, strong leaders, and powerful warriors. You're hardly flamboyant, and I don't get the impression that you're a people person. Quite frankly, the only thing you and other Red Rangers have in common is arrogance."

He stared at her, open mouthed, before regaining his composure. "Arrogance?" he repeated. She had the gall to call him arrogant after saying she wanted the Zhane's morpher because 'it's the strongest'?

She calmly headed for the door, either oblivious or just plain unsympathetic to his shock. "Don't get me wrong, Andros, I'm not accusing you of incompetence. But I barely know you, and I've never seen you fight. I want to see how you do for myself before I make a judgment."

"Then fight me yourself." Do it! he thought. Fight me! I bet I could wipe the floor with you.

"All right. Tomorrow morning. There's a clearing south of here, about twenty minutes on foot. No distractions, and we won't be in the repair crew's way while they're fixing the ship."

"Why not now?"

"Because we're both exhausted. Wouldn't you rather fight fresh?"

Andros stared down at his clothes, suddenly aware that he'd been wearing the same ones since the Velocifighter attack. He did want to clean up, now that she mentioned it, but he refused to admit it out loud.

He didn't have to. Seeing that he was starting to grudgingly agree with her reasoning, she took her leave. Andros watched her go, wondering why she had been so adamant about having Zhane's morpher.

* * *

Sleep didn't come easily or last long for Andros, and by the following morning, he was anxious to get out of bed. He got up, showered (it was bliss), ate his first proper breakfast in weeks, and went to survey the work done so far on the Megaship. He headed for the bridge first, partly out of habit, and partly because that was where he'd last seen Alpha working the night before.

Alpha was still there, hard at work on the bridge fumbling with wiring and checking the operating systems for errors.

"How's it coming?" he asked, tying his still-wet hair into a ponytail.

"Slowly. But it's coming. Soon she'll be as good as new. Better even." He examined Andros critically. "Where're you off to?"

"For a run," Andros lied. He made a quick exit before Alpha could question him further.

He found the clearing Tari had been talking about without any trouble. It was at the bottom of a small, rocky ravine, connected to the high ground by an almost nonexistent, winding foot path. He could see instantly why she'd selected this particular spot: it was wide, relatively level with the occasional outcropping of Eltar's trademark grey granite, and secluded from prying eyes since it was far enough away from the port and main roads to be a nuisance to all but those capable of picking their way down the unused footpath.

Tari was in the process of putting her long hair back into its usual braid while standing in a shadowy corner along the wall. A small bag of equipment and towels had been tossed behind her where the ravine ended and a cave of some sort began.

She nodded to him as he arrived. "Ground rules: first one pinned or unable to counter wins."

"All right."

"No weapons."

Andros laughed at the absurdity of that. "Never crossed my mind."

After taking up places several feet away from each other, they bowed cordially, and fell into their stances. Andros focused on his breath for a beat, and waited. He wanted to see what she'd do first before going on the offensive.

He didn't have to wait long.

She leaped into the air, angling herself to unleash a fierce kick that was aimed for his chest – a classic opening move for a Power Ranger, and one that Andros knew well, as he also favoured it. He jumped up as well, aiming his fists for her stomach. Both of their moves connected and deflected them off each other, but neither one of them lost control.

They both landed, now somewhat closer together. Tari glared at Andros, grinning like a cat, and then broke into a charge. He dropped into a more aggressive stance. So much for that.

The first few beats of their fight were a formality as they got a sense of how the other moved, and what moves they liked to use. Andros tried not to reveal anything too unique about his fighting style as he tried pin down hers, but she wasn't making it easy for him to keep holding back. She glided from side to side like a dancer, constantly trying to break through his guard. She was almost completely an offensive fighter, giving no quarter but taking little effort to protect herself.

And she was a good fighter, Andros decided as she executed a leg sweep with a dramatic gesture. There was no question about that anymore.

He backflipped to dodge her attack and to lead her into believing that he was going on the defensive after being unable to find any opportunity to strike back. He'd seen enough; it was time to get serious.

Once she closed in on Andros, he met her assault with one of his own and started to exploit whatever weaknesses he'd noticed while she did the same with him, or so he figured. He struck her thigh when she overextended her lunge to punch him in the stomach. He made of mockery of her attempt to effectively block his kicks by poking all of the holes he could in her defense.

As the fight developed, he had his share of blows to recover from, but overall, Andros started to feel reassured. Knowing that his technique was more balanced than hers and that he was able to both repel her attacks but also teach her a lesson was extremely satisfying after all the things she'd said to make him angry.

Tari ran towards him again, renewing her assault with a vicious pummel of fists. Andros blocked the first two but was hit by her third, a nasty uppercut that broke through his blocks and swiped his chin. He stumbled back, dazed, recovering his senses just in time to sidestep an aerial kick.

Tari's foot connected with the gravelly soil, sending pebbles and a small plume of dust into the air. She let out a furious cry as Andros took advantage of her serious mistake to go counterattack. Every blow of his that she blocked was matched by one that connected, and Andros could tell that she was losing her focus. As she made one final, desperate attack, he pulled out all the stops and hit her with a series of kicks that broke her guard completely. With no small amount of glee, he wasted no time in pinning her in a grapple. Her one free hand waved around uselessly, partly pinned to her side. There was no move that she could pull off with that one hand that would make any difference.

"Satisfied?" he asked between pants for breath.

Tari frowned, her face darkening faster than Andros could register. Before he knew why she was doing it, she stuck her free hand under her clothes and withdrew a tiny switchblade, swinging it at Andros with a speed that made him react on a primal level. He barely released her in time and paid for it as her blade ripped into his left shoulder, tearing both cloth and flesh.

He immediately grabbed the wound to staunch the blood that was starting to stain his sleeve and stared at her in disbelief. "You said no weapons!" he yelled, torn between fury and shock.

She calmly wiped the blade on her pant leg and resheathed it in a hidden fold of her clothing. "Do you think Dark Spectre's minions would adhere to a 'no weapons' rule if you asked? I doubt it."

He bit his lip. "I wasn't fighting one of Dark Spectre's lackeys, I was fighting you."

"So? You let your guard down. It's not my fault you weren't prepared."

"Prepared? I can't believe..." he trailed off, too upset to finish his sentence. Instead he whirled away from her, ready to leave.

"Oh, stop taking it so personally!" she said, jogging towards him.

"Hah!" he yelled over his shoulder. "This coming from someone who couldn't stand the thought of losing a sparring match that she broke her own rules!"

Her face reddened, threatening to darken again with that same ruthless glare, but it never surfaced.

"Look. I realize that my training methods are going to be different from what you're used to, and I understand the pressure you're under. But you're just going to have to trust me!"

"Trust you? You pulled a knife on me! How am I supposed to trust you?!" he stopped walking and turned to face her.

"I don't care by whose authority you were chosen to lead the team," he said, "It doesn't matter. You're no Power Ranger. I won't follow you."

She got in his face. "You're wrong. I was chosen. I am a Power Ranger, whether you like it or not. You don't get a say in the matter! If you don't want to follow me, then don't! Give up your morpher and be done with it!"

He stalked away for a second time, cursing under his breath. This time she didn't try to follow.

"You'd better get that cut looked at!" she called out.

* * *

Andros stormed into the Megaship's infirmary, keying the door shut and locking it with his personal code. He ignored Alpha's pleas as the android knocked on the door, calling him.

"Andros, what happened? Who attacked you? Oooh, that cut looks nasty! Please let me help you! I'm trained in first aid–"

"I'm fine." He yanked open a drawer, hissing as he realized that he'd used the wrong arm, and switched to the good one before methodically removing various bandages and supplies for treating wounds from a first aid kit.

"Ohh, I hate teenagers!" Alpha cursed. Andros heard his metallic feet stomp in anger. He felt a pang of guilt, but forced it away.

He pulled his shirt off, sat on the medical bed with his supplies and set about treating the wound, wincing as the disinfectant stung his skin. When the stinging was down to a dull ache and the bleeding had stopped, he tossed the bloody compress aside and tried to wrap a bandage around his shoulder. It was harder than he thought it would be; he couldn't keep enough pressure on the bandage to keep it from sagging without just one hand.

Alpha chuckled knowingly. "Having trouble with the bandage, eh?"

The Red Ranger shut his eyes, forcing down several colourful curse words in various languages to describe irritating, all-knowing androids. Without answering, he slid off the bed, unlocked the door, and returned to the bed. He tried not to acknowledge Alpha any more than he had to as the android examined Andros' cut for himself before binding the wound. He had a feeling that if Alpha's face was capable of displaying emotion, he would have an 'I told you so' expression right now.

"Stupid teenagers. They're always so unpredictable," Alpha muttered to himself, tugging on the bandage that was now firmly wrapped around Andros' shoulder. Andros grunted as Alpha adjusted it. "Sorry."

Andros settled both hands on the bed, bracing himself as Alpha continued his work. "I'm fine."

"Sure you are." Alpha stepped back and inspected the bandage before nodding in satisfaction. "Don't do anything too strenuous with that arm for a few days, okay? You might tear the muscle if the cut opens any more."

"Right." Andros continued to sit, staring blankly at nothing, thinking.

"Alpha, you said that Earth has Power Rangers too, right?" he finally asked.

"That's right."

"What're they like?"

"Hmm." Alpha crossed his arms. "They're teenagers, so a lot like you, I suppose. Always moving. Eager to find their place in the world. Annoying."

"And as Rangers?"

"They were the best. I don't think there is a better team anywhere else in the universe, although I am a bit biased. So brave. Always ready. They never gave up."

"Is that why Zordon chose them to be Rangers?"

Alpha shook his head. "Zordon didn't choose anyone. The Power chose them, he offered it to them, and they chose to accept. I thought you knew that."

"...I don't know anymore," Andros said.

Ever since he'd arrived on Eltar, he'd been questioning himself. Was he supposed to be a Power Ranger? His opinion had been bouncing back and forth ever since his conversation with Zordon, and ever since he'd met Tari. Sometimes, he was so sure that he was meant to do this that he'd boggle at his own thoughts, unable to comprehend how he could doubt himself so much. Other times he wondered at the reverse.

And whenever he entertained the notion that Tari was a Ranger, his certainty derailed.

"What happens when someone who isn't meant to be a Ranger tries to be one?" he finally asked.

Alpha rested his ovaloid head in his chin and thought. "Hmm...it's hard to say. There's never been an unworthy Ranger as far as I know, or even a Ranger that broke the Three Rules. There's no record of such an event in any history that I'm aware of."

"It's never happened before?"

Alpha chuckled. "Oh, I'm sure it has. But recorded history never shows us the whole truth. It can only show us one side of what really happened. What I'm trying to say is, I have no idea what happens when the Power rejects someone. I don't think anyone does, not even Zordon. All that I know is that as long as you use the Power for good, it will always protect you, even if you don't have a morpher. Once a Ranger, always a Ranger."

He patted Andros on the back and headed for the door, stopping at the frame.

"I'm sorry, Andros. I know that's not much help."

The door slid shut behind the robot. Andros tested his arm's mobility absentmindedly as he pondered his larger problem.

He couldn't let Tari be a Ranger. No, that wasn't it. He wouldn't. He didn't care how talented she was at martial arts, or how much she deserved to be a Ranger after dreaming of becoming one all her life. It didn't matter. Her very nature was as un-Rangerlike as anyone could get. She was an aggressor, interested in power and rank and command. Power Rangers were supposed to be defenders. They were supposed to be a team of equals. She was deceptive; Power Rangers were rarely that underhanded. And deep down inside, he had an unsettling feeling that if she continued like this, then her career as a Power Ranger would take a dastardly turn before it even began.

He had a responsibility to stop that from happening. He couldn't let her keep the morpher. He had to get it back. Damn whatever everyone else said.

Andros got off the bed, carefully pulling his shirt back over his head, and made for the cargo hatch. He had an impostor to confront.


	4. Choice

**_Choice_**

Having no clue where to start looking, Andros started with the isolated gully where they'd fought that morning. She wasn't there, but after a few minutes of scouring the area for some kind of a clue to her location with no success, he decided to try the cave she'd stashed her things near earlier in the day. If that turned up nothing, then he would check the port.

The cave's interior was pitch-black, the only source of light being the midday sun outside, which unfortunately didn't reach too far in. It twisted and turned at odd angles, but didn't branch into multiple passages. Andros walked carefully, keeping one hand steady on the walls. They were perfectly smooth to the touch, and the floor was relatively devoid of matter as well. He started to suspect that this wasn't a natural crevice.

He was barely five minutes in when he started to hear voices up ahead. They sounded crude and dark. Andros wondered if that was the result of the sound refracting off the twisting corridor. He started to feel on edge, and listening to his instincts' suggestions, quieted his movements so that he would not be heard.

"...don...sus...ct ann..."

"I hope no..."

He rounded a corner, saw the faint silvery glow of artificial light, and immediately turned away, pressing his back to the wall for cover.

The voices were clear from here. There were two people; he'd nearly walked into them. Andros held his breath.

One was Tari. "These aqueducts used to supply the city. They go deep underground and end in the Old Quarter."

"Of course the Eltarians would make such...enduring infrastructures. It doesn't look like there's been water around here for a couple thousand years. I guess we'll have to put it to good use." The second voice was male, and judging by the strange, mimicking way he pronounced 'Eltarians' and 'infrastructures,' was not human. That didn't bode well; Eltar had no nonhuman inhabitants. Andros chanced emerging slightly from his hiding spot to gauge the situation and figure out what Tari was doing with this individual.

It wasn't pretty. Andros realized right away that the monster was one of Dark Spectre's more prominent generals. His name was Wyrmduke Fafnir, and he was a tall, purple, bipedal dragon, complete with large, bat-like wings and a scaly, armored tail that would put a Stegosaurus to shame. His immense, bulky and armored frame, elongated neck, and horned head towered several feet over Tari.

Andros' heart sank. Fafnir's reputation as a violent, powerful wyrm was known throughout the universe. He was no pushover. Even morphed, Andros knew that was no match for _that _on his own. He seriously doubted anything less than a full team of Rangers would be able to stop Fafnir.

Fafnir toyed with the walls with a clawed fist, sending rivulets of broken rock flying. "What of the defense network?"

How had Fafnir gotten on the planet? How had he captured Tari without anyone noticing? How was he going to rescue her and warn the Eltarians? Strategies and possibilities whirled through Andros' brain as he mentally prepared for an inevitable fight, but then horror began to well up in the pit of his stomach as he really _looked_ at his would-be teammate. Tari wasn't tied up or restrained, and she was still armed; a blaster was resting on her hip, holstered and ready.

It couldn't be. He looked again, hoping to see something to contradict his fears, but found the opposite. She was still armed, staring imperiously at the wyrm as if he were just some salesperson at an intergalactic bazaar selling cheap wares.

Tari wasn't his prisoner.

She shrugged dramatically at Fafnir's questions. "I _told_ you before that I don't know. It'll be hard enough for me to explain how you used my security clearance to get your ship into the atmosphere. You're on your own now."

Fafnir lunged at her, his hands stopping short of her neck. She didn't flinch. He started to laugh. "I _like_ you, human! You're ruthless, cunning, and you _gamble_ well. Did my informant pay you well? He never said what your rate was."

She folded her arms. "Believe me, I'm getting _exactly_ what I want out of this."

"Good for you. Now stay out of my way." Fafnir whipped around and took off on all fours into the darkness.

Andros waited until he couldn't hear the echoes of Fafnir's movements before moving, all the while trying to choke the anger that was sending his heart racing. When he was sure that the wyrm was too far away to hear him, he leaped from his hiding place and grabbed Tari by the arm, pinning her against the wall.

"_What have you done_?"

She glared at Andros with such shock and anger that he thought that her eyes would suddenly turn into little burning coals.

"Let me go, Andros! I only did what I had to do!"

Let her go? Was she joking? "_Why_? Why did you do it?" He shoved her against the wall with even more force, pinning her down even more tightly.

Tari struggled to getloose as she replied. "I didn't know when I'd get another opportunity!"

"To do what? Destroy a city?!"

"No, to get my morpher!" She stomped on his foot and shoved him away, freeing herself. "I knew you wouldn't understand!"

"You're damn right I don't!" Andros closed in on her, and she fled the cave, stopping in the clearing. He followed, hot on her heels. Outside, she faced him in a defensive posture.

"The Council told me they weren't going to consider me anytime soon because they didn't know how to convince you to come to Eltar. I didn't have any recourse, so I _made_ one. I brought the morphers here, and I brought my way of proving myself along with them."

Andros reeled at the revelation. "_You_ arranged the attack on the Megaship. You tried to _kill_ me so you could get a morpher?"

"Of course I did! If it were up to you, the morphers'll sit in storage forever! How is that fair? They exist to be used!"

Andros pointed to the port. "_Fair_? How is this fair to _them_?"

"Fafnir's not a major threat! He's just one monster! He won't cause any long-term damage to the planet, just enough for people to start taking Dark Spectre seriously!"

She edged closer to him and extended a hand. "We can take him, Andros! You and me! And then no one will doubt us! We'll be true Power Rangers – heroes! That's what this is about, Andros! It's about people seeing us for what we are!"

He still couldn't believe it. How could she be so selfish? Andros wanted to vomit.

"You just don't get it, do you?" he spat. "_Y__ou started a_ _war_! _They wanted to hold off starting the war for as long as possible_!"

Tari snorted. "The war started last year when KO-35 was attacked! We never got a chance to defend ourselves! I never got a chance to do any good!"

She pulled her hand away and flipped open the morpher. "I _deserve_ a chance to fight as a Ranger, I _deserve_ a chance to get revenge for our planet's destruction, and if this is the only way to get that chance, then so be it! It's time Eltar took Dark Spectre seriously!"

"_No_." He raced forward and seized her arm, pulling it away from the morpher's tiny keypad. "You put yourself above the safety of others. You put people's in danger so you could get a morpher. I don't care what you think you are, _no Power Ranger would ever do that_. You're no Ranger, and you'll never be one."

He touched the wriststrap. "Don't try to use it. It won't end well. Give me the morpher."

Her fist connected with Andros' face, splitting his lip. "No!" She leaped back and into a battle-ready pose while inching away from him.

"It's _mine_," she said, "and I'm not giving it back."

Andros wiped the droplets of blood starting to ooze from his lip.

"I don't want to fight you," he said, leaning back into a battle stance, "but I will if I have to. _Give me the morpher_."

Tari grinned a twisted smile and raised her fists. "I beat you once. I can do it again."

And so it began.

The fight was nothing like their spar. That match had been all about learning each other's weaknesses and tapping them. This one was about causing as much damage as possible in the least amount of time. There were no pauses between punches while the other person recovered, no restrained motions to prevent serious injury. Tari was out to kill him, and while Andros didn't want to kill her, he definitely wanted that morpher back.

Tari launched herself into a furious combination of punches, forcing Andros to give ground in order to evade them.

"You're going to have to morph to beat me, Andros," she taunted, "can you live with that?"

Andros rolled backwards and came back up in a lower position, poised and ready. "I don't need to morph to beat you!"

"Puh. Still arrogant as hell!" She dug a foot into the ground and out, kicking rocky soil into his face, and then lunged forward and punched his injured shoulder while he was temporarily blinded. Andros gritted his teeth, but still wound up groaning in pain. He dived out of the way, getting back to his feet as she produced her switchblade.

_It doesn't matter if she's armed! I know her tricks, and I'm more disciplined than her_, he told himself. Still, he found it hard to be confident when she was armed and he was injured.

But he couldn't give up. He had to get that morpher back!

Andros assumed a defensive position and waited. Tari met him, aiming her obsidian-sharp blade first for his throat, then his stomach, and then any part of his body that she thought was most vulnerable. They exchanged blows over and over at an ever-quickening pace, and Andros continued to wait for his moment. Soon, she would overextend herself in aggression, and when she did, he would strike.

Tari lunged forward, aiming low. Andros saw his chance and jumped as high as he could, flipping over her as she advanced. She didn't miss his movements and rose, pivoting around to face him, but that was what Andros wanted, and he aimed an aerial kick for her shoulder. Tari fumbled at the hit, dropping her switchblade, and Andros charged her. In the ensuing scuffle, her morpher unhinged, clattering to the ground.

"No!" she screamed, immediately scrambling for it. Andros tripped her mercilessly and went to claim it.

In the distance, an explosion echoed through the air and rattled the ground. Smoke was rising on the horizon, in the direction of the port. Andros stopped dead in his tracks.

He was out of time.

In the corner of his eye, he saw Tari make another dash for the fallen morpher. He moved to block her, but the distant explosion had distracted him for too long.

She clutched the morpher with one hand while pointing her recovered knife menacingly at Andros. "I told you, it's mine," she said. "Your move."

"Then I'll beat you again," Andros shot back. What was one more time? He'd defeat her a thousand times if that's what it took.

Another explosion and tremor reverberated through the gully. Tari, too fixated on Andros, barely acknowledged it, but Andros hesitated as he analyzed what he'd just said.

Every second spent defeating Tari again was more time for Fafnir to wreak havoc on the port.

_Do I have to put people's lives in danger in order to get what I want? Am I no better than her?_

His morpher felt oddly heavy on his wrist. He'd never noticed that before.

Tari let out a fresh battle-cry and charged at him. She raised her blade, poised to kill.

Andros wanted to stop her. He had to make her understand that she couldn't be a Ranger like this, that it would destroy her. He still didn't know how. He just knew that it would.

But his need to protect was greater.

"Galaxy Glider! Hang-ten!" he shouted, raising his morpher to shoulder level. "Let's rocket!"

As Tari wildly swiped her blade at his body, Andros flipped over her again, morphing in mid-air and landing on his Glider. The ache from his knife wound receded as the morph suppressed his injuries, and he sped off to the port as fast as the Glider's engines could bear. When he was out of Tari's earshot, he screamed in indignation at how close he'd come to stopping her.

* * *

It wasn't hard to find Fafnir once Andros arrived in the port; all he had to do was follow his unmistakable path of destruction.The wyrm was causing as much damage as a tornado and earthquake combined. He stared in horror at what Fafnir had managed to do already. Several homes and businesses had been reduced to smoldering piles of rubble and scrap metal. Once straight, smooth roads were impassable, now caved in, forming little craters, or heaved up to make jagged hills.

The area appeared to be deserted. Andros scanned the debris for any poor soul that might still be trapped in the wreckage, but came up empty. He hoped that meant no one was hurt, but the rational part of his mind pointed out that no life signs meant that some victims were already dead. He told that part of himself to shut up.

A blast of heat and smoke erupted to Andros' left, followed by a roar that made the Ranger's ears ring. He summoned the Spiral Sabre and hurtled past the wall of smoke, finally catching sight of his target. With no real plan of action, completely unsure of whether he could even injure the wyrm, Andros jumped off the Glider while pointing his sabre right at the wyrm's wings. It sliced through the softer part with ease, causing Fafnir to howl in shock. The monster whipped around, using his tail to strike Andros' midsection. Sparks burst from the teen's uniform as it absorbed the blow, and he stumbled backwards.

As he retracted his wings, Fafnir leered at Andros, assessing him. The wyrm's eyes glowed red. "So you think you can stop me all by yourself, Ranger?" he said, gnashing his teeth in his beak-like mouth while holding his arms out in a mocking welcome. "Go ahead and try."

Andros did try. He used all his force and wits to try and injure Fafnir. His sabre connected with the general's adamant-hard armor, glancing off without even leaving a dent. He swerved and ducked to get in close and strike the dragon in an unprotected spot behind his wings or under the neck, but always had to retreat to avoid being struck by Fafnir's massive claws and spiked tail. The monster wound up hitting buildings instead, ripping through the stone as if it were foam, creating a second problem for Andros to deal with. Eventually, he pulled out his blaster and tried to just shoot Fafnir to death, but the blaster was no more effective than his sabre had been.

His efforts at incapacitating Fafnir were completely fruitless. Andros was exhausted, panting for breath and willing his injured arm not to go numb, but all he'd managed to do was give Fafnir a few nicks and bruises.

The wyrm found the whole thing hilarious. "You're a Power Ranger? The best the universe has to offer? Pathetic! You can't even hit me hard enough to break the skin, like _this_!" Fafnir braced himself and roared, opening his beak-like mouth wide as he expeled a blast of hot-white energy at Andros.

The attack was unlike anything Andros had ever encountered, and he was completely unprepared for it. The energy knocked him over, dragging him roughly across the uneven battlefield. His suit sizzled and hissed with strain, and the Power struggled to maintain the morph. His eyes burned, his ears hurt, and when he tried to scream, his voice wouldn't work.

He hit the side of a damaged generator braced against a stone wall at full speed, causing the wall to crumble. Debris tumbled all around him, settling on one of his legs. Andros dug his hands into the ground, trying to wrench himself loose, but to no avail. He could only sidle towards the generator, and it was humming at a disturbing pitch, threatening to explode. Andros was a sitting duck, and could do nothing but glare at Fafnir as the wyrm casually ambled over to finish him off.

He raised a claw fist, grinning. "You're lucky, Red Ranger. You won't have to watch the universe crumble and fall before Dark Spectre's feet. You'll be long dead!"

But before he could strike, blaster fire from out of nowhere struck Fafnir's injured wing. He howled, more out of surprise than pain and wheeled back. Andros craned his head to see who'd fired the shots, and spotted Tari.

Her hair had come completely loose from its perfect braid and was flowing now freely around her shoulders. She was standing out in the open and far away from any cover, haughty as a queen, and positively jubilant.

"Did you honestly think that I was going to let you trash all of Eltar, Fafnir?" she said, tossing the blaster aside. "You're here for a reason: to make me look good."

Fafnir abandoned Andros and started to assess this new threat. "You? You foolish human! I'll rip you apart!" he said, stalking towards her.

Andros tried to break free from the rubble that was pinning his leg to the ground. "Tari, run!" he called, as he tried to wriggle loose. He had to get free, he had to get free!

Tari rolled her eyes and assumed a dramatic pose while opening the Astromorpher's keypad. She found the buttons and pressed 3-3-5.

Andros yelled at the top of his lungs. "_No_!"

"_Let's rocket_!" She hit Enter, and the morpher responded.

A surge of yellow light and energy burst from the morpher and enveloped her body like a giant ribbon of sparkles. It bubbled once, and then twice. Tari closed her eyes.

And then the morph collapsed into itself. The golden-yellow energy disappeared back into the morpher like an explosion in reverse, leaving Tari in its wake, exactly as she was before.

The Power had rejected her.

Fafnir roared with laughter and slapped Tari to one side as if she were a toy. She screamed as she hurtled through the air, landing on her side with a groan while clutching her left leg. It was contorted into an impossible position, completely broken.

The wyrm chuckled as he closed in on her. "So much for the wannabe-Ranger," he said, reaching down to grab her neck.

Tari crawled back in horror as fast as she could, her lame leg flailing uselessly. Her haughty, self-assured look was long gone, replaced by one of complete confusion and disbelief. She looked around for help, flinching at the sight of the Astromorpher on her arm. Only now did she understand what Andros had been trying to tell her.

She met Andros' eyes just as Fafnir's grotesque body cut her from his view completely. He heard her say one last phrase amid Fafnir's final blow and roar of triumph.

"Save me."

But it was too late.

* * *

As Fafnir continued to celebrate the demise of his latest victim, Andros looked around wildly in search of a way to free himself. Where was his sabre? He'd been holding it when he was hit with the blast. It had to be nearby. He could use it to push away the rubble crushing his leg. Where was it?

There it was. It had skidded a couple of meters away, and was lying in the dust.

Andros thrust out an arm and focused, calling it with telekinesis. The sabre wobbled and turned on its side, but did not come any closer to him. Frustrated, he pounded the ground with his fist as he breathed deeply. _Focus!_

Fafnir arched his long neck as he heard Andros struggling and stomped the ground, laughing as the reverberations caused more debris to fall on the Ranger's body. Andros cringed and covered his head with his hands until the debris was down to a trickle.

He reached out again. The sabre wobbled around some more.

He heard Fafnir stomping his way back to Andros. "Your turn, Red Ranger!"

_Forget the pain. Forget Fafnir. Focus on the sabre._

Andros reached so hard that both his arm and head throbbed with the strain.

_Come here!_

The sabre flew into his hand, and Andros didn't waste any time to catch his breath. He plunged it into the rock rock pinning his leg with all the strength he had. In a matter of seconds, the Spiral Sabre reduced enough of it to dust, and he kicked away the rest, scrambling to his feet in time to deflect a tail whip by Fafnir.

"You'll have to do better than that!" Andros said as he was mentally assessing his injuries. _I hurt, but I can still stand, walk, and move. Nothing's broken. I can still fight_. He engaged Fafnir again. Running away never occurred to him. There was no one else to slow the wyrm down.

This bout was only marginally better than the last, but Andros realized that he was succeeding in one thing: he was making Fafnir furious. Unable to sustain so many of the wyrm's blows at once, Andros leaped around, drawing Fafnir in close and then bouncing back only to repeat the process. By the fourth time he did this rolled around, the wyrm was lunging so forcefully in hopes of delivering a fatal blow that he was practically falling over.

"Hold still!" Fafnir bellowed, before spitting a small bout of energy at Andros. It glanced off his side, and was quickly followed by another, and another, and another. Andros felt like he was in the middle of a firing range.

But he persisted. _If I'm lucky_, he thought, _Fafnir'll_ _do the same thing as Tari and leave himself wide open_. He didn't know what to do when that opportunity arose, but it was better than having no plan of attack.

Andros continued to dodge Fafnir from side to side, barely evading some of the blasts by little more than a foot, and eventually found himself standing right where he'd been trapped under the rubble. He ducked to one side as Fafnir chucked a large slab of rock at him and missed (_I guess wyrms aren't good throwers_, Andros thought). The rubble hit the damaged generator instead, and it whined and sparked as its fuel line sprung a tiny leak. Andros watched a small amount of fuel dribble free with morbid fascination and, after a second of deliberation, made a run towards it.

He couldn't have moved a moment too soon; Fafnir was pissed at both Andros and his own incompetence with throwing things. "I'll kill you if it's the last thing I do!" he yelled, leaping into the air. He spread his wings and angled towards Andros like a hawk swooping towards its prey, his mouth open wide and ready to hurl another massive spray of energy at his opponent. Andros held his ground, waiting in front of the generator.

When Fafnir was only a second away from crushing Andros' ribs with his foreclaws, part of Andros wondered mildly if he would somehow survive this, but the thought was distant and unimportant in the heat of the moment. Ignoring his own defense completely, he drove his sabre into the generator's fuel line with one hand, splitting it the rest of the way as if he were slicing butter, and with the other hand, fired on it at point-blank range with his blaster.

The generator exploded, and Fafnir's almost-ready blast of energy came into contact with the explosion, creating a massive fireball that engulfed them both. Fafnir howled, and Andros screamed too as he jumped back as far as he could. The hot white fire was infinitely worse than Fafnir's attack had been. It was too much to bear.

_I'm going to die_, Andros thought. Oddly enough, he wasn't scared. He was just disappointed. There was so much that he wasn't going to get to do.

_I wish I could've seen Karone again...I miss Zhane..._

The last thought he had before succumbing to unconsciousness surprised him.

_I wish I could've met my teammates._

Everything faded from black, to white, and then burst into colour.


	5. What I've Done

_**What I've Done**_

Groaning at the aches in his body, Andros stood up and collected his sabre before realizing that he was alive. He was sore, his arm was still throbbing from the knife wound, and he was pretty sure he'd sprained a few things, but he was _alive_.

He held out his arms, examining his sleeves. His bright red suit had turned into a rough patchwork of burgundy-black, burned by the fire of the explosion, but the morph was holding, albeit barely.

His morpher was burning hot and _glowing_ again, the same way it had when he'd met Zordon. As he flipped the keypad open, it sparked, and a wave of rainbow energy surged through the wiring before dissipating.

He had no idea what to make of it, so Andros closed the morpher, and surveyed the outcome of his gamble.

He'd won.

Fafnir's remains were only a few feet away from him, reeking with the scent of charred death. Plumes of smoke littered the air, and the port looked just like a certain hopeless battlefield that Andros had fled the year before. Debris, broken buildings and a broken body were all he could see.

Tari.

She was crumpled in a heap where she'd been slain, her unfocused eyes still wide open in shock, and the morpher she'd gambled everything to obtain still strapped to her wrist. He removed it, gently closing her eyes and folding her arms across her chest before rising.

Was he supposed to be angry? Satisfied that she'd paid the ultimate price for the suffering she'd caused? Andros wasn't sure. Seeing her corpse only made him feel pity. It was such a waste.

He was almost sorry that she wasn't meant to be a Ranger.

In the distance, a child was crying and adults were screaming. Fires were burning. People were undoubtedly trapped in the rubble, their lives at risk. They needed help.

The Red Ranger turned and ran to their aid, never looking back.

* * *

The Eltarians buried Tari several days after the attack. Most of the debris had been cleared away, but the landscape around the port was still horribly scarred by her betrayal, though the majority of Eltar's inhabitants would never know that. She was lamented in the same way that Fafnir's other victims were, as someone in the wrong place at the wrong time. Andros never bothered to correct anyone. Tari had broken two of the Three Rules in life. The least Andros could do was ensure that she didn't break the third in death.

He only told Zordon, Alpha, and the Eltarian Council the entire truth. They agreed with Andros' choice not to correct anyone's misconceptions and changed the subject. The last thing anyone needed to hear right now, they said, was about a betrayal by the highest order of good. People would lose faith and hope, and it was too early for that. The war had only just begun. Now, in hindsight, Andros understood what Alpha had meant when he'd said that there were no recorded incidents of Ranger betrayals; they had probably happened and then been quietly buried.

It took a week to satisfy all of the Council's questions. He had quite a few talks with Zordon as well during that time. At the first one, after Andros had finished telling him about the battle, he asked Zordon what he really wanted to know.

"Did you know before you met her that Tari was capable of..."

"Of being so aggressive, so un-Ranger like? Yes."

Andros saw red as images of the destroyed port flooded his mind. "How could you let her be considered?"

"Because at the time, she had not _done_ any of those things. I will not condemn anyone, let alone her, for something they _might_ do. Tari might have changed. She deserved that chance. Everyone does."

"Then..." Andros paused. He found himself asking the same question he'd been asking since he'd met Tari. Zordon was connected to the Power. Surely he would've been able to tell? "Could she have been a Ranger? Or was it never meant to be?"

Zordon closed his eyes. "Perhaps," he said after a moment. "At first, she had the connection. Most people do. I think the Power waited for her until the last possible moment. It does not abandon people lightly."

Andros lapsed into silence and looked at his morpher.

"I shouldn't have survived that explosion," he eventually said, "or if I had, I should've been burned. My morph should've failed. I don't understand what happened to me."

"What do you remember?" Zordon asked.

Andros closed his eyes and let his mind drift. The force of the explosion echoed in his mind, and he followed it as far as he could remember.

"I remember...fire and light. White. Colour. And then nothing."

"The Power looks after its own," Zordon said cryptically.

Andros' morpher hummed.

* * *

He spent the second week doing next to nothing constructive. He went for runs, practiced his katas, sat with Zhane in the ship, meditated in the quiet solitude around Zordon's home, and occasionally talked to Alpha. He didn't want to admit it, but the robot was starting to grow on him.

The change in lifestyle unsettled him. It was a huge change from his usual life; most of the past year had been marked by space battles and fistfights all over the universe with the occasional natural disaster. The silence and quiet bothered him, and one day, in the middle of a meditation, he suddenly understood why. He'd been using the action to distract himself.

Andros was lonely.

He did have one thing to celebrate: the Council wasn't clamoring for him to surrender his morpher anymore. They weren't even demanding that he let more candidates try to choose the other morphers. After Fafnir, they'd done a complete about-face.

"Tari was aware of more than just Eltar's security protocols. She knew about several important troop movements, and she somehow knew how to find you," Zordon said after their retraction, in another one of their meetings.

Andros sighed and shook his head. "That's not good. Do we know if she told Fafnir or anyone else that information?"

"No. You're going to go find out."

"What?"

"I want you to take the Megaship and go on a mission to Onyx. Infiltrate the planet's spy network and find out what they know."

"But what about the Megaship? I thought that Eltar needed it to defend itself?"

"I am working on a project to compensate for the loss. In your place, robotic copies of the Earth Rangers will defend the planet."

"Robot Rangers," Andros muttered to himself. _Leave it to Zordon to be creative like that_. "But does the Council really trust me to do this? Alone?"

"You will not be alone. I will help you as best I can from here. And I think you'll find the improvements Alpha made to the Megaship to be most helpful. The real question is, do you trust yourself?"

"Yeah." He did now, more than ever. Sure, he'd made mistakes, big ones too. He would never be able to forget them. But he knew deep down that he could also make up for them.

And for the mistakes of others.

* * *

Alpha eagerly led Andros onto the Megaship's bridge. The android was barely able to contain himself and was practically bouncing with excitement now that the grand tour of the 'New and Improved' Megaship was on its last leg.

"So? What do you think?" he asked. Andros surveyed the room and grinned. The bridge was pristine.

"It's great. I can't believe that you managed to convince the mechanics to refit all the systems. The whole ship looks brand new."

Alpha brought Andros to a side panel and stared punching in commands. "It _is_ almost brand new. In fact, there's two completely new systems on board that I think you'll like."

The first turned out to be an independent system that monitored Zhane while keeping any trace of his presence invisible to sensors. It was designed to run silently in the background and would only respond to commands from the bridge, Zhane's new secret chamber, and Andros' quarters.

Andros was stunned that Alpha had gone to such lengths to make sure Zhane would remain undetected and unknown to the outside world. "I...I don't know what to say."

A third voice, computerized and female, replied. "Standard etiquette dictates that when one receives a gift, they reply by saying, 'thank you.'"

"What the?" Andros looked around the room wildly, but saw no one but Alpha, whom he stared at for answers. The android laughed.

"Well, you can't possibly run this whole ship by yourself," Alpha said, "though you did do a good job trying. So I installed DECA. DECA's a self-aware onboard computer. She's all over the ship and can run most of the systems herself. That way, you don't have to!"

"I am also certified in medical, psychological, historical, linguistic-"

Andros waved his hand. "I, uh, get the idea. What is your purpose, DECA?"

"To assist the Power Rangers in any way I can."

"Which Rangers?"

"Any of them. But at the moment, you."

Alpha headed for the door. "You'll get used to her, I promise. And if you don't, then _that_ button turns her off," he said, pointing at the panel he'd just abandoned. "If you have any more questions, just call, okay Andros?"

"Okay. And Alpha? Thanks."

Alpha waved as the lift door closed. "Safe journey!"

The door slid shut, and several comms burst to life. "Beginning pre-flight systems check. Preparing to departure. Your orders, Andros?" DECA asked.

He sat down in the navigation's chair and thought about it.

"Our mission is to go to Onyx and infiltrate Dark Spectre's intelligence network," he said. "We're going to find out what they know.

"We're also going to look for Kerone, my sister, and keep protect Zhane from being found while he's healing. And...we're going to find my teammates."

Andros lowered his head, his fingers grazing the edge of his morpher. One day, the people meant to take up the other morphers would appear. When they did, he would have to learn to trust them. He would have to learn how to live with other people.

_I don't know where you are_, he thought, _I don't even who you all are. But when you come, I'll be ready._

_I promise._

Fin.

Thanks for reading, and please leave me some feedback! I'd love to know what you thought.


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